


lines

by writeiolite



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Body Worship, Bondage, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Impregnation Kink, Marking, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeiolite/pseuds/writeiolite
Summary: it doesn’t matter what line of life you walk — your soulmate will always find you. in this life, kuroo makes sure this is the last time he has to find you, sealing your lines of fate and love together for good.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 202
Collections: Comms





	lines

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted on my tumblr, writeiolite
> 
> [ ! ] if you want to use this fic in a reading video (like ASMR or smth), please dm me on tumblr and get my permission first

You loved to trace the lines on Kuroo’s hands. Little whispers about love lines and life lines always fascinated you to a degree he couldn’t understand, but he knew it was popular at the time amongst the voodoo queens and witches of the era. You weren’t one of them, just a girl and her hobby for the unconventional, but maybe that’s exactly why you fell for him.

And as fate would have it, he fell for you too.

_Over and over again._

“Your life line ends so abruptly.”

“Does that mean I die young?”

“Dunno… First I’ve seen of it.”

Kuroo’s jaw had dropped at your flippant attitude but he was enraptured nonetheless. “I think that means I get to have my dying wishes granted, right? And since you’re sealing my fate, it’s only right that you…”

“Seal your lips with a kiss?” you guessed, and the corners of your lips twitched into a small curve he so very much wanted to mould against his own. However, that would’ve been indecent for that time in society. Teasing like this is as far as things could go for the two of you.

“Since _you_ suggested it, I’ll hold you to it later.”

Your cheeks grew warm and his did too, but he never did specify when later would come.

_Over and over again._

“Your hands are still so soft.”

“Hm? Oh, thanks,” he chuckled. “Not too cold and dead for you?”

You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand for good measure. “No, just the perfect amount of cold and dead for me. How about mine — too warm and alive?”

He pretended to ponder the question, bringing your knuckles up to his lips with the faintest brush of a kiss. It was then that a chill went down your spine, the cold air of the night finally settling in even though the two of you had been on the stone balcony for quite some time now. The wedding party beyond the French doors was moving and thriving without you two, but it had felt like you couldn’t even breathe if you hadn’t taken a moment to be alone with him. He felt the same.

_Over and over again._

“Fits like a glove every time,” he muttered under his breath, quiet as can be in the dead of night, knowing full well he shouldn’t have been there. In this life, you didn’t make things easy for your soulmate despite admitting you felt some sort of pull toward him. Evidently, you had lost any memory of him, flashes coming back in bits and pieces like frayed lines with withering ends. Lines he traced in your palm as you slept, the little silver band on your ring finger.

He was delicate with you every time he did this, but before it was because he was scared to break you (as if that would’ve been possible with such a soft gesture). This time it was because he didn’t want to wake you and face your confusion and discomfort. With the memories of him gone, he had no other choice but to take things slow with you, no matter how much it hurt.

When you woke the next morning, you kept the ring on, almost not noticing it was there because it truly _did_ fit like a glove, like a hand in your hand that was made specifically for you. Little did you know…

_Over and over again._

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” you tell him, but he feels the words more than he hears them. Feels the desperation in them and the plea for him to do more. He knows that feeling, he knows exactly what it is you want — he was human once too and humans _always_ want more. And it’s not a _bad_ idea…

“We talked about this,” he starts, but you cut him off.

“And I remember enough to know that this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this. I _know_ this is something I wanted in a past life with you, so why didn’t you? Why didn’t you make me like you?”

Another emotion he understands and still feels even though his blood has run to a cold stop: loneliness. He never thought to consider how you must feel during all of this, living life after life with a lingering feeling of déjà vu and a want for something more without knowing what. With your memories of each life fading every time, he figured that meant there would be nothing to miss. _If I’m the only one who feels lonely, waiting each life, then that’s okay with me_.

He was set on that. That was the only thing that kept him grounded all these centuries, waiting like a dog waits for its human to come home from work.

Except dogs don’t bite humans like he does. Dogs don’t have fangs like he does. Dogs don’t live eternal lives like vampires.

“I didn’t want to take-”

“My humanity from me? Tetsurou, that’s _such_ a textbook example of what _not_ to say.” You sigh in frustration while forcefully sitting in the center of the bed. He joins your side immediately, twirling the ring around your finger while his thoughts swirl in his head. “Didn’t you ever read Twilight? It’s the perfect guide of everything you should avoid with your mortal girlfriend.”

“ _Fiancée_ ,” he corrects, still twirling and twisting.

You want to be mad, you really do, but you’re absolutely in love with hearing that from him. He cares more than he’ll let on. There are _some_ things he’s bothered by, apparently, and this is just one of the cuter ones.

“Anyway, I really want to be with you forever, as corny as that may sound. I don’t want to forget you again…”

He _knows_ that. He doesn’t want you to forget him either. You may not remember it, but you always tell him that last sentence over and over right before you do just that — forget him. It almost scares him to think of it now, like it’s a symbol of your life ending and that he’ll need to find you all over again. His heart aches at the thought, seeming to beat back to life and cry out for him to give you what you both desire.

The look of defeat in your eyes makes his whole body ache.

“Stop,” he whispers, finally twisting his hand around so his fingers are tangled with yours as he pushes you to lay down on the bed. He’s propped up above you, pinning you with one hand and the gaze of an angel in pain and a man in love. Ethereal and earthly all at once, he’s your whole universe put into a body you can hold and love for days on end.

You don’t speak a word, unsure of what to say, but he brings his free hand to his mouth, lips brushing against the skin on his wrist. “If we d- _When_ we do this, I’ll make sure you have control, okay? No slipping into some dark, bloody path as long as you have me. _And you’ll_ ** _always_** _have me_.”

You nod, and electricity buzzes under your skin. Anticipation, nerves, excitement; all of it dances and leaps within you, completely void of fear even though you know how the vampirism process works. The blanket of trust surrounding the two of you is too warm and secure to allow you to doubt him, one that’s been woven for lifetimes by his very hands. Hands that have always been woven with yours, lines pressed against each other as if they could become one.

And now they finally will.

With black filling his irises and thin capillaries rising to the surface around his eyes, Kuroo — the real one for as long as you’ve known — lets his fangs free before plunging them into his own flesh. Red runs down just a little before it drips onto your lips, and your first instinct is to flick your tongue out for a taste. He shudders, as if he felt the electricity too, and brings his wrist to your lips for you to drink more.

You were expecting to taste iron, but not _this_ much. You may as well have been sucking on an iron pipe, only this one is a lifeless being full of life and watching you carefully.

“Okay,” he breathes out shakily, pulling away from you completely to sit up straight, straddling you. Any more and you may get sick… the thought makes an amused smirk cross his features — it’s not something he’ll have to worry about for much longer.

“You’ll be okay, right?” you ask suddenly, licking the red from the corners of your mouth.

“Hm?” Kuroo raises a brow- _oh_. A deep breath into hollow lungs in… then out. He’s done this before for others… He should be okay if it’s you. He _needs_ to be okay. “Yeah. You’ll be up and kickin’ before we know it, baby girl.”

You both gulp, knowing he’s right but for some reason anticipating a bad joke told by fate nonetheless. Lucky for you, he doesn’t waste any time. The last thing you feel is his lips against yours and a whisper of his love before his hands meet your head — one at the top and the other on your chin.

And after a strong twist, he hears the familiar, gut-wrenching crack.

Then silence. No breathing, not even his own imitation breaths. You’re there, laying lifelessly beneath him with the most peaceful expression… _Did it hurt?_ He doesn’t even remember what it feels like anymore. Staring is all he can do, trying not to think. Just watch and wait. Wait and watch.

Over and over again.

A deep pop from your neck and a shift of your head rips him from his reverie, his eyes dilating to take in the light of his life. The sun rises in your eyes, gilded over in temporary gold and confusion, a signature that he was the one who caused this, though he knows from experience that it will fade once you’ve had time to adjust. From unfocused to focused, you take in every little detail you didn’t know existed before.

An obnoxious clicking from down the street, a squirrel scaling a tree in the neighbor’s yard, and the silence of two dead hearts.

“Hi.”

He finally breathes in.

“Hey.”

He takes his time now, pressing his lips against yours for the first time of your new forever, one hand holding him up and the other finding yours again. Like always, you’re sweet. Too sweet to him when you lace a hand through his midnight locks but not sweet enough when your thigh devilishly presses into his crotch.

“That’s not exactly the kinda hunger I was expecting you to have right after waking up,” he chuckles, but your lips finding his again is the only response he gets.

Everything just feels so… _real._ It feels like you’re sipping on iced honey tea at 3 AM and soothing your throat and tongue with strawberry milk. Each nerve is firing in different fits of electric shocks, jolting you into a high you don’t want to come down from. All you want is _more —_ of him, the world, and of him _as_ your world.

“Daddy,” you sigh out much sooner than anticipated, catching you both off guard. You don’t falter, though, tugging on his bottom lip and rolling your tongue over it before speaking again. “I feel so good like this. _You_ feel so good.”

He knows. _God_ , he knows. This feeling is one he only ever experienced during his transition and while laying with you, but it feels even better now that your souls truly are tainted mirror images of each other.

“My princess,” he coos with a sweet nudge of his nose against yours. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you _everything_ you want.”

He squeezes your hand before traveling lower, his lips at your jaw and his hand now trailing your side through his black t-shirt. A fiery trail blazes wherever he touches as if he’s fixated on those spots and leading you into a level of stimulation you hadn’t known before. And in a sense, he is. Each wet kiss on the column of your throat, each little suck and loving nibble are making your head spin with dreamy clouds, the wisps seeping from your lips as lustful sighs.

With your hand now free, you can’t help from touching yourself alongside him, gripping your breast much harsher than intended through the t-shirt and a gasp leaving you. Your hand jolts away, burning hot with desire and shock from just _how_ sensitive you are.

Kuroo holds his laugh down in a snicker. “Kitten, do I need to show you how to touch yourself now?”

 _That voice_. Gooey like amber honey and solid like steel, you’ve learned that he isn’t going to take any objections when he talks like that.

“Yes, please,” you whimper, clenching your thighs and tightening your hold in his hair.

He grunts at the slight tug but grins at your answer. “Alright…”

Why is he getting up?

The view of him above you is so clear that you’re almost frustrated at the confusion still lingering within you. You shouldn’t be confused — he shouldn’t be confusing you. _Why is he getting up?_

He doesn’t go far, but you can feel the slight temperature difference between his body on yours and the air on your melting skin. Everything is too much, especially when it’s not him. You _need_ him, and God knows why but pray he never tells.

“First thing you need to know about touching yourself,” Kuroo starts, his fist hiding something behind his back as he straddles you, the other fist taking your wrist. Then the other wrist, collecting them both above your head before revealing his true intentions.

“ _You don’t, I do_.”

Your eyes round out at the realization, arms tugging too late against the silk restraints he had hidden behind him. He was always careful to never make them too tight or too difficult to get out of, but that was before. Now you’re really trapped and at his mercy, your desire spiking with a shudder he _relishes_ in.

Kuroo runs one hand down your body, moving his own until he’s at your feet. Somehow you saw this coming, but your dead heart races nonetheless when he makes good use of the last two strips of silk in his grasp. “There,” he grins, not even needing to look at his work. “It’s perfect. No squirming or touching, princess. Understood?”

You don’t have much of a choice with your arms above you and legs spread apart, but you nod anyway. You’re always so obedient for him and it makes him twitch in his pants.

With a hand under your shirt playing with your breast, his lips meet your lower ones over the cloth of your panties. The heady scent you’re giving off, the growing damp spot, and everything else are all so close to sending him into a frenzy even a god or devil wouldn’t be able to come back from. He doesn’t hold back while mouthing at your entrance, hot saliva making the thin fabric a second layer of skin, but it’s still too thick. You both crave bare contact and you can _imagine_ it — the feeling of his tongue pushing up against your throbbing hole through your underwear as if to teasingly fuck you, eventually moving the useless garment aside and laving over the slick skin with gossamer strands connecting him to you when he pulls away to really fuck you.

“Baby,” he moans into your snatch, fingers pinching your nipple for good measure. “Pay attention, will you? I want you to focus while I’m treating you. Look at me.”

You do and _god_ you wish you had sooner… Lust is rolling off of him like steam over water, except one of those visuals holds innocent serenity while the other holds you right at the edge of danger. He looks at you like you’ve done something good; like you have something to be proud of.

“Good girl,” he adds on, “you’re so fucking pretty… I can’t believe you’re mine.”

His eyes never leave yours as he peels the seat of your panties to the side, immediately replacing it with his mouth. He doesn’t want a single part of you untouched, determined to feel every part of you and cover you in his affection no matter how sweet or sinful it may be. You want to reach down and pull at his hair or your other nipple, but you know you _have_ to be good. He looks at you like you already are and that sets the bar higher than you can reach on your tippy toes — you’re _his good girl_.

“Damn,” he hisses, flicking his tongue up your clit once, twice, and then twitching it underneath the hood fast enough to make your hips raise and a heavenly cry leave you. He could get lost in those sounds, each one and every little movement accompanying them turning him on at the same time that they make something inside him buzz. “Keep doing that, baby girl. Let me hear that pretty voice again.”

He lets you grind against his face even though he said no squirming. He _wants_ you to — he needs to feel how desperate you are for him to know that he isn’t the only one craving this. Your pleasure is quickly seeping into his own, swirling around at the same pace his tongue moves between your clit and your opening. He doesn’t even mind when you thrust your hips up at an angle that pushes his tongue inside you; he _loves_ it, taking in the sight of your pleasure through hooded eyes. _So_ good… he’d want this every day if poss- he _can_ have this every day for the rest of your days together.

The lust pooling in his balls makes them weigh heavier as he sits up abruptly, not able to keep going with _just_ this. His lips meet the skin on your stomach, hands pushing the shirt up higher so he can paint kisses over a bare canvas.

“You know you’re my everything, right?” he murmurs against you, breathing you in and breathing his love out as he moves higher. His hands memorize your body for the nth time and find purchase on your hips. “I love you, your clever little quips, this cute fucking waist, your smile…”

Each sweet confession is separated by an even sweeter kiss, playing the strings of your body and your heart in the sweetest tune. It’s a song even you know well, one that he composed with you as his muse for ages, singing over and over again from the bedsheets rather than sheet music.

“And,” he peppers kisses up your chest and neck, finally face-to-face with you, “I love the way you look at me when you know I’m going to absolutely _ruin_ you.”

You don’t feel the shudder that goes down your spine, completely thrown off guard by his words and the lingering feeling of his lips that you’re only encompassed by Him. You don’t notice the drag of his tongue from your jaw to your lifeless veins, the hum in his chest, or anything else except for the sudden pinch into your skin. Sharp and dull all at once, hot and hotter, wet and cool — everything in your mind is jumping from one gradient of pleasure to another while he laps at the blood seeping from the bite mark. Still, your blood is just as sweet as he remembers, but he notices the telltale signs of the transition flicking over his taste buds while his fingers do much of the same movement over your clit. That time you feel it — you feel _everything_ in bouts of pleasure and pain, tingles dancing across your skin.

“Daddy,” you whimper, your vision going in and out of focus. Is it because of him drinking your blood or is it something else? You want to speak and ask for more — to ask nicely and cater to him — but he drags his fangs over His Mark at the same time two long fingers are pushed knuckle deep inside of you, white blasting behind your now closed eyelids.

“You’re not cumming yet,” he tells you with a chuckle, knowing your body better than you. “It just feels good, I know.” But that’s only the surface of it. He can feel your insides clenching around his digits, spongy walls fluttering to elude to your impending fall into heaven, but he’s not going to stop there. Call him a sadist, but he loves the moans and cries you let out when he plunges his fingers faster, arm muscles rippling with the force of the movement and fangs gliding over the crimson divots in your neck. He _knows_ you’re close now, and pushes a third finger in while curling his hand to push right up against that special spot with each backstroke.

That finally does it, a moan of his title leaving you in between convulsions and thank you’s, all of which he’s quick to catch in another searing kiss, breathing the air from your lungs and leaving the taste of him and you across your lips.

“Literally an _angel_ ,” Kuroo sighs, not sparing you a moment before he’s lining himself up with your entrance. You hum in satisfaction, watching his face as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit. And _god_ do you want it — even with the post-orgasmic haze fogging your mind, you know you want him just as much as he wants you. He takes his time, though, gently rubbing against your sensitive clit and then sinking into you slowly. The mewl you let out is silenced by his lips once again, his restraint dwindling.

All he wants is to be close to you — a raw, primal need to be intimately connected to you in every way possible. It’s been so long since he kissed you like this, rocking his hips back and forth within you to soothe the ache and add to the flames growing in the pits of your stomachs. It may be temporary, but it feels like a symphony — long and filled with crescendos of pure love. Just thinking those last two words humors him, but it’s hard to not be a hopeless romantic for the woman whose soul matches his.

Just like he found you time and time again, his hips find yours at a steady pace, only stopping to roll against you and push forth more soft cries he’s definitely getting off to. The desperation you had before is more of a warm sensation in the back of your throat and core, but it doesn’t die down, not when Kuroo presses his forehead against yours and burns his gaze into your own.

“Let daddy hear you, kitten,” he coaxes softly, pushing his hips against yours rougher this time. He picks up the pace, shallow thrusts causing the head of his cock to pass over the soft spot inside you repeatedly. “You’re so fucking cute,” he coos when you comply with the sounds he wants to hear.

He leans back a little bit, using his hands to raise your hips so he’s at the perfect angle, your cries increasing, mind spinning, and heart soaring. Even as you tug on the restraints out of reflex, they don’t give in — instead, it spurs Kuroo on more with his balls slapping against you faster and faster.

“Fuck, can I cum inside you, kitten?” He doesn’t need to ask, but he wants to hear it.

“Yes, daddy,” you nod frantically, “please cum inside me. I want it, daddy.”

“Yeah? Like a kitten wants milk, you want me to _breed_ you now?” Kuroo can feel himself slipping, the grip on your hips getting tighter and his own eyebrows drawing together in pleasure. “You have to keep daddy’s cum inside you if I do, you promise, baby?”

“Yesyesyes-” you’re cut off by another kiss, this one much hotter than the previous and practically ripping your soul out of you to replace it with his own when he cums without warning. Each spurt is backed by deep thrusts between your thighs, pushing his load deeper within you as if his body doesn’t trust you’d keep your promise. Still, even as he empties himself in you, he doesn’t stop. Drinking in your moans, Kuroo’s pace only quickens to chase your own orgasm.

“Mm- pleash, daddy, wait-” you mumble out against his mouth. You feel hot now, caught between wanting to cum and wanting to last a little bit longer because of how sensitive you feel. Despite the pleasure, it’s too intense with your new senses.

He knows that.

And Kuroo doesn’t stop.

“Bite down if it’s too much,” he pants out while tilting his head to the side, “but I promise it’ll feel really good, princess. You trust me, don’t you? I told you I’d teach you.”

You clench around him, eyes honing in on his throat in a place similar to where he had bitten you. The urge is there, yes, but you aren’t sure if you can focus enough to even figure out how it’s properly done. After all, you want him to feel good too, but he isn’t showing any signs of letting you give him the same level of pleasure he’s giving you.

Your hips are tilted just a little lower, the tip of his length jutting right into your g-spot again and again until stars explode across your teary-eyed sight. You gasp out, trying to catch your breath or anything else to keep you grounded, only for silent moans of pleasure to leave your gaping mouth.

Kuroo groans lowly right into your ear, feeling you pulse and squeeze around his cock with a vengeance. He almost wishes he was still cumming, wanting to feel you do that at the peak of his pleasure as well. But when he looks at your euphoric expression, a catlike grin crosses his features.

“Had enough yet?”

You shake your head immediately.

“Good.” A simple tug on the silk ties and daddy’s taken care of your restraints. “Because now I don’t have to hold back.”

You’re flipped over with the sound of your panties ripping before you can give a coy response, his hands much harsher when he pulls your hips flush against his, but-

“That’s how you like it, right?” _Smack!_ “You like when I throw you around like this.”

It’s not a question, and the only answer he needs is the feeling of you clamping around him immediately when he pushes his hard cock inside your little hole directly to your cervix. His hiss of pleasure from the new angle dissipates into one of disappointment, a hand smacking your ass again and grabbing you by the roots of your hair. The pleasant tug makes you moan, but this time he doesn’t feed into it.

“ _What_ did you promise me?” Kuroo growls out, jerking your head just a little for good measure. Even this isn’t as rough as what you were used to as a human, but your senses are still in overdrive.

“T-to not let any of daddy’s cum out,” you moan, pushing your hips back into his. It’s too much; it’s not enough. You’re stuffed full, but empty all at once. You _need_ him. Over and over again.

“Since when do you _lie_ to me, naughty kitten?” His hand leaves your hair, and you almost think you have a reprieve. You know better than that, especially when he holds his hand beneath where the two of you are connected to catch the steady drip of his creamy cum, only to promptly shove his fingers into your mouth.

“Good girls don’t lie,” he adds on, slamming his hips into yours at a blinding rate. “Am I wrong?”

“Nno, daphdy,” you try.

“I _am_?” His patronizing continues with his punishing pace, but you can imagine the familiar bliss on his face even now, which only adds to your own. “I don’t think I heard you right, slutty girl. I should teach you how to use this hole you call a mouth.”

With a faint grin, his fingers go further past your lips, pressing slightly against your fangs just enough to stimulate a nerve you didn’t know existed. Instantly, your senses flood with primal need, your tongue swirling around the digits before you realize what you’re doing. He knows, though; he _always_ fucking knows you and the ins and outs of your body, toeing the line between soulmate and doppelgänger. The sentiment of becoming like your lover rings more true now than ever, your ecstasy blurring with his as his pelvis drives into your ass with such vigor you can’t help but drool. Your eyes roll back when he pulls your jaw open more.

“You’re dripping from both ends,” he teases, “but it’s so _cute_ when you take me like this. Maybe I’ll eat you out after this as a reward, hm? I have to treat you like my princess, right? Not my fuck toy, no, no, _no_.”

Kuroo makes sure you can’t respond, leaning over your arched back to see the euphoria cross your features alongside the tears that begin to roll down in fat streams. His balls pulse. Fuck. When did seeing you cry like this become _such_ a turn on?

“Too much?”

You garble something out that doesn’t make it past his knuckles or your sobs, but it doesn’t matter. Daddy can tell it’s _just right_ when the last fraying knot inside you breaks apart and you come undone. Every twitch of your body is met with his own, the gooey mess between the two of you becoming a flood of thick, white globs stirring up inside you. He can feel your tears on the bottom of your jaw mixing with the saliva and it only spurs him on more. His mind is already flooding with the thought of you being fucked pregnant from today and forgetting all about it because you’re just _that_ far gone.

He slams his fat shaft into you and pumps as much as he can handle before pulling out and taking his fingers out of your sloppy lips. But even that doesn’t compare to the sloppy state of your gaping pussy, oozing with his and your cum immediately. Somewhere within you, you can feel a whine, but you barely register anything now. You’re _stuffed_.

 _Yeah, just enough_ , he muses, taking the liberty of slipping his half-hard cock back inside you again. The perfect plug is the cock that stretched you, after all. He figures he should give you a moment, but he can’t erase the image and sounds of your sobs, something dark within him awakening with each second that you keep him warm.

“We're not done, kitten,” he hums lowly in your ear. “You promised, remember?”

**Author's Note:**

> [read more fics, talk to me, and show support on my tumblr.](https://writeiolite.tumblr.com)
> 
> [ ! ] if you want to use this fic in a reading video (like ASMR or smth), please dm/inbox me on tumblr or comment here and get my permission first


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